


take it like a champ

by bespokenboy



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, mild exhibitionism, not proofread sorry, public groping/spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:41:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4090885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bespokenboy/pseuds/bespokenboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>EXO’s favorite pastime is seeing who can shatter Joonmyun’s immaculate composure. Based on <a href="http://junmyeonni.tumblr.com/post/120811203006/is-there-some-kind-of-game-going-on-to-see-who-can">this</a> post.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take it like a champ

With every pat, grope, and fondle, Joonmyun can feel his self-control eroding, layer by layer. It’s a game they’ve played often, one in which Joonmyun earns time and time again the title of reigning champion. 

Just hours earlier, a crowd of eight pairs of lascivious eyes had gathered around Joonmyun’s bed to inform the sleepy leader that he would be today’s victim—or “volunteer,” as they had phrased it. They’re supposed to be on rotation, but somehow the spinner lands on Joonmyun’s name more often than not. Either the law of averages isn’t on Joonmyun’s side, or the game has been rigged from the beginning.

Joonmyun’s best guess is the latter: that the members’ favorite pastime is seeing who can shatter Joonmyun’s immaculate composure.

So far, he’s winning. As far as Joonmyun can remember, he has only once come close to losing. A fansign, not too long ago when a floor length tablecloth concealed from the public eye a menagerie of wandering hands. Someone had even managed to unzip his jeans under the table, but the event came to a merciful conclusion before Joonmyun came undone. He makes sure to cross his legs extra tightly now even when he’s off-duty, just as a precaution. 

He’s upped the ante this time. Just to reassert his dominance, Joonmyun made the promise of allowing anybody who manages to break Joonmyun’s composure do anything he wants with him after the comeback stage. He’s that confident about his own self-control. 

The confidence isn’t unfounded; Joonmyun doesn’t even flinch when Jongin claims him immediately once they’re on camera for their first interview. He hangs onto Joonmyun’s shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world and then fondles his hips, letting a finger slip through Joonmyun’s belt loop. 

Even the blatant spanking Joonmyun can tolerate without a budge in his expression. He can hear the begrudgingly respectful taunts already: _As expected of our stoic leader, Suho_. Joonmyun waits patiently for the sharp impacts of Jongin’s hand against his tender flesh to subside, but they just keep coming. It startles Joonmyun; who would have guessed that Jongin wanted to win _that_ badly?

It’s when Jongin grabs Joonmyun by the hips and presses into him from behind that Joonmyun comes the closest to losing it—a hairline fracture in his composure. As soon as Joonmyun feels the distinct jut of Jongin’s erection nudging into his lower back, Joonmyun’s knees buckle slightly, but involuntarily from pure shock. Had Jongin gotten hard simply from manhandling Joonmyun in public?

He doesn’t get the chance to ask before they’re being whisked away, Jongin parting reluctantly from Joonmyun. He doesn’t let go of Joonmyun’s wrist even when they’re off-camera, and the last glimpse Joonmyun catches of him is a look of what could only be disappointment, a look of pleading, in Jongin’s eyes. For a moment, he almost wishes that they could linger for a few minutes longer, because Jongin might just have won if he had more than just two minutes to unravel Joonmyun. But they don’t have the luxury of time.

Another hand groping at his ass jerks Joonmyun from the subjunctive into the present tense. A deep rumble of laughter from behind Joonmyun informs him that it could only be Chanyeol probing his fingers into the fissure between Joonmyun’s buttocks.

They’re at the periphery of the stage, but there must be a camera around somewhere if Chanyeol is trying to finger Joonmyun through his jeans. The sudden look of concern on Jongdae’s face tells Joonmyun that the camera must be close by, probably right behind them. This level of recklessness is risqué, even for Chanyeol, who pats Joonmyun’s ass a few times just for good measure. 

The fleeting gropes and touches Joonmyun receives throughout the comeback stage are nowhere near the boldness of Jongin and Chanyeol’s ministration. Nor is anything as unforgettable as the press of Jongin’s hard-on against Joonmyun’s back, or Chanyeol’s audacious fingers digging into Joonmyun’s clothed ass. 

Even so, it is with smug satisfaction that Joonmyun declares today’s winner to be no one. It’s his own subjective judgment, but the other members reluctantly agree that their attempts had been largely unsuccessful. No matter what they did to elicit a reaction, Joonmyun had remained inert as always, calm as still water. Joonmyun: a winding stretch of tally marks, EXO: zero. 

He shoos the other members out of his bedroom, but asks Jongin and Chanyeol to stay. They look particularly disappointed, since they had put forth the most effort in trying to ripple Joonmyun’s placid surface. While the others had accepted Joonmyun’s uncanny degree of self-control, Jongin and Chanyeol were both convinced that they would be the first to draw out a whimper or a shudder or _anything_ to indicate that Joonmyun wasn’t infallible to their touch. 

“Since you two tried so hard today, why don’t we make a compromise?” Joonmyun suggests cheerfully. “Like a consolation prize.”

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind sharing you with Jongin,” Chanyeol agrees, suddenly perking up at the idea.

“I’m okay with that, I guess,” Jongin mumbles.

“Wait, what are you guys talking about?” Joonmyun’s smile falters, and his brow creases in confusion. “Sharing me? I was just going to give each of you a...a kiss.”

Jongin nudges the door shut with his foot, and then joins Chanyeol in cornering Joonmyun until the backs of his thighs touch the edge of his mattress. Realization surges through Joonmyun’s veins, hot and racy like adrenaline, warming his cheeks and quickening his pulse.

“We can do that, hyung,” Chanyeol purrs. “We can do more than that, too.”

He takes the initiative of satisfying his own craving first, tasting Joonmyun’s lips in an advance that has Joonmyun melting into his arms. And then Joonmyun is in Chanyeol’s lap, back pressed to Chanyeol’s chest as Chanyeol mouths against Joonmyun’s neck, slipping his hands up his shirt to smooth guitar-calloused fingers over Joonmyun’s nipples.

Joonmyun’s lips part invitingly as he lets out a sigh, followed by a sharp inhale when Chanyeol flicks an earlobe with the tip of his tongue. Jongin is frozen, unable to move his own limbs forward, to do what Chanyeol’s doing right now to Joonmyun. But Joonmyun’s eyes flutter open and meet Jongin’s, and he whispers, “Jongin-ah, come join us.”

That’s all it takes, and Jongin is scrambling to help Chanyeol divest Joonmyun of his clothing, fingers fumbling in their avidity. Brimming with pure compulsion at this point, Chanyeol finally gets the chance to sink his fingers into Joonmyun. He’s tighter than Chanyeol anticipated, clenching around Chanyeol’s fingers, but Jongin is there to kiss him through the mild tension of the initial stretch. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, hyung,” Chanyeol murmurs as he enters Joonmyun from behind, clamping tightly onto his milky thighs. 

Chanyeol’s fingers press indents, pink and white, into Joonmyun’s skin that would leave bruises if Jongin didn’t tug at Chanyeol’s wrists for him to loosen his grip. 

“Jongin-ahhh,” Joonmyun whimpers. He holds out the soft syllable at the end, which trembles with every bounce of the mattress as Chanyeol continues his fervent onslaught of thrusts. “Kiss me again, Jongin,” he pleads.

With a gentle glide of lips at odds with Chanyeol’s rougher maneuvers, Jongin kisses Joonmyun and nuzzles against his neck. Joonmyun reaches out blindly, fumbling to find Jongin’s hand to hold onto. Jongin’s breath catches at the unexpectedly tender feeling of their fingers slotting together.

“I’m close, fuck,” Chanyeol moans. His voice is rough, husky almost, and soon a growl knots his throat as his hips snap more quickly with obscene, naked slaps against the backs of Joonmyun’s thighs.

“You want your turn, too, Jongin-ah?” Joonmyun asks when Chanyeol pulls out. “Don’t be shy.”

His boldness from earlier in the day has long since evaporated, and Joonmyun massages the stiffness out of Jongin’s shoulders as he lowers himself onto Chanyeol’s lap so they’re face-to-face. Joonmyun kneads the smooth, supple skin and muscle from Jongin’s shoulder blades down to his waist and lower back as he tilts his hips experimentally.

“You like that?” he whispers, and Jongin nods mutely.

Chanyeol’s hands are on Joonmyun again, sneaking down to tease Joonmyun’s neglected cock and making him writhe on top of Jongin’s lap. If Joonmyun’s composure is frayed at this point, Jongin’s in an even worse state. Jongin would have teased Chanyeol about his stamina if only Jongin himself could have lasted a bit longer. But the sudden sensation of Joonmyun contracting around Jongin, mixed with the sinful sounds reverberating from Joonmyun’s throat, push Jongin to his limit.

“I should have just let you guys fuck each other from the beginning,” Joonmyun whines after the two taller boys topple him over to lavish him with fond kisses. But giving consolation prizes to both lucky recipients means that Joonmyun gets twice as spoiled with affection afterwards.


End file.
